Chapitre 128: Lemon of Troy

Lemon of Troy "Wet cement. " Is there any sweeter sign? Well, maybe "high voltage. " Hello, son. You want to try this flying motorcycle I just invented? - No time. - Okay. This is for the ages. Like Stonehenge, this site will forever be a mystery. Who was Bart? And how did he manage to write his name in solid cement? He must've been smarter than his sister Lisa, about whom we know nothing. Say, let's bring him back to life by using technology. Ay caramba! - What's normal to him amazes us. - He will be our new god. Good, somebody's shadow. I'll just turn and brag about my work. Bart, you've graffito-tagged public property. It was an accident. I can't believe you vandalized your own hometown, Bart. - What would Jebediah Springfield say? - He'd be cool with it. Homer, will you please help me make a big deal of this? What for? Nobody cared when Bogart defaced that sidewalk in Hollywood. Well, I'm just shocked by this whole family. Whatever happened to good old-fashioned town pride? It's been going down since the lake caught fire. Now, just a darn minute. This town is a part of who you are. This is a Springfield Isotopes cap. When you wear it, you're wearing Springfield. When you eat a fish from our river, you're eating Springfield. When you make lemonade from our trees, you're drinking Springfield. Mom, when you give that lecture, you're boring Springfield. You have roots in this town, and you ought to show respect. This town is a part of us all. A part of us all. A part of us all. Sorry to repeat myself, but it'll help you remember. This town is a part of us all. A part of us all. A part of us all. Wow, that does work. - Hey, gonna win some this season? - Gonna try. When it comes to catching trout, nothing beats the German light infantry. Beautiful, aren't they? Yep. I'm gonna huck them at cars. Hey, Milhouse. How's the lemonade business? It's clearly booming, Bart. I don't even want any. I just bought a pity glass. We've squozen our whole supply. To the lemon tree! Thar she grows. You know, Milhouse, I've been thinking. This town ain't so bad. Good friends, lots of lemons, numerous angel sightings. When you get right down to it, Springfield's a pretty cool place to live. Springfield sucks. Hey, stop talking bad about my town, man. - Why don't you make me. - I don't make trash, I burn it. - Then I guess you're a garbage man. - I know you are, but what am I? - A garbage man. - Oh, I know you are, but what am I? - A garbage man. - I know you are, but what am I? - A garbage man. - Takes one to know one. - Checkmate. - Hey, kid. Stop wearing your backpack over one shoulder. - We invented that. Copycat. - You copied us. Step over this line and say that. I'll kick your butt at Nintendo. I just put a rock in your crummy town. That's a crud rock. It belongs in Crudtown. Look at the weak little baby. You're stupid, you stupid, weak baby. - Come on, let's get out of here. - Hey, they're taking our lemons. We can't spare a single one. You just got citric acid in my eye. You'll pay for that, Springfield. Some things never change. Hey, everybody, an old man's talking. Grampa's the name. Did you know this tree dates back to frontier times? Shut up! It all began when Jebediah Springfield first came to these lands with his partner, Shelbyville Manhattan. People, our search is over. On this site, we shall build a new town, where we can worship freely govern justly and grow vast fields of hemp for making rope and blankets. - Yes, and marry our cousins. - I was What are you talking about, Shelbyville? Why would we marry our cousins? Because they're so attractive. I thought that was the whole point of this journey. - Absolutely not. - I tell you I won't live in a town that robs men of the right to marry their cousins. Well, then we'll form our own town. Who will come and live a life devoted to chastity, abstinence and a flavorless mush I call rootmarm? The town of Springfield was born on that day. And to mark that sweet moment, our people planted this lemon tree lemons being the sweetest fruit available at the time. Those Shelbyville kids think they're hot. You know what? They're not. - I really agree with you on this one, Bart. - Class, please. If you don't learn Roman numerals you'll never know when movies were copyrighted. Come quick. Something's happened. No time to explain. No, children. No. Your education is important. Roman numerals, et cetera. Whatever. I tried. Are you sure it wouldn't be faster to just tell us what happened? No. I said there's no time to explain, and I stick by that. The lemon tree's gone. And the tracks appear to lead into Shelbyville. Oh, look, a clue. A candy-bar wrapper. Oh, they're always eating candy in Shelbyville. - They love the sweet taste. - We gotta get that tree back. You mean going to Shelbyville? We'll never make it out alive. That lemon tree's part of our town and, as kids, the backbone of our economy. We'll get it back or choke their rivers with our dead. Where are you going, Bart? Mom, you won't believe this, but something you said got through to me. And now, I am going to teach some kids a lesson. - I choose to take that literally. - Death to Shelbyville! Yes, Bart's a tutor now. Tute on, son. Tute on. Hey, Milhouse, get your invasion supplies, and let's go. Get him. Come on. - Where did he go? - Over here, my friends. Or is it over here? Yeah. Here's how it goes. I'm the leader. Milhouse is my loyal sidekick. Nelson's the tough guy. Martin's the smart guy. Todd's the religious guy who ends up going crazy. And now the time has come to cross this line into mystery and danger. To step out of childhood and become men. If you get lost, remember you can always find east by staring directly at the sun. Here's a tip. Put a pinch of sage in your boots and all day long, a spicy scent is your reward. Oh, my gosh. Look. The fire hydrants here are yellow. This place is starting to freak me out. Danger coming. Behind us. What is it, boy? Is there something behind that wall we should beat up? No time to check it out now. We've got lemonade to sell. Radical. They're getting rich off us. And that kid with the backpack said "radical. " I say "radical. " That's my thing that I say. I feel like I'm gonna explode here. It's lunchtime. Do you know where your brother's tutoring? Tutoring? The only thing Bart's teaching is guerrilla combat in Shelbyville. - You have a number we can reach him? - No, Mom. Bart and some kids ran off to wage war on Shelbyville. Homer, come quick. Bart's quit his tutoring job and joined a violence gang. The trail has become indistinct. I suggest we split up to cover more ground. Good idea. Milhouse, you and me will be Omega Team. Todd, you and Data are Team Strike Force. - Nelson, that leaves you and Martin. - Team Discovery Channel. Your wussiness better come in handy. - What's going on? - I want some answers. Okay, folks, look, I called the police captain in Shelbyville. He says he hasn't seen our kids. But if they show up in the morgue, he's gonna fax us. - Oh, man, I hate those Shelbyville jerks. - Honey, I was born in Shelbyville. And it tears me up inside. This is my fault. I tried to teach Bart about town pride. But the power of my words filled him with a sort of madness. Marge, you can't blame all of Bart's problems on your one little speech. If anything turned him bad it's that time you let him wear a bathing suit instead of underwear. - And let's not forget your little speech. - Isn't there anything we can do? Yes, there is. Come on, everybody. Let's go into Shelbyville and get those kids back ourselves. I got an RV we can use. - Flanders'. - Yeah! - Yeah, let's do it. - Okay, but just go a little bit easy on it. Pile in, everybody. No time to wipe your feet. Come on. Okay, piglet, start squealing. Where'd you get the lemons for this lemonade? This is Country Time Lemonade Mix. There's never been anything close to a lemon in it. I swear. Hey. Nobody hassles my little brother. Hey. And no one manhandles the bosom chum of Nelson Muntz. Spring forth, burly protector, and save me. Jeez. I never hang out with him, normally. Hark to the tale of Nelson And the boy he loved so dear They remained the best of friends For years and years and years - What are they saying? - I'm not sure. - I thought you said you could read lips. - I assumed I could. It's no use, Milhouse. If we're gonna find that lemon tree, I've got to go undercover. - What I need is a new face. - You leave that to the baron and me. Hello there, fellow Shelbyvillians. Wait a minute. If you're from Shelbyville, how come we've never seen you at school? - I don't go to school. - Okay, what's two plus two? - Five. - Story checks out. We just got word there's Springfield kids in town. Curse those handsome devils. We're going up to the bluffs to paint "Springfield sucks" in huge letters. That way, whenever they look into Shelbyville, they'll realize that they suck. - Radical. - Quit copying me. You know, I wish there was a Springfield kid here right now. I'd fill his mouth with stinkbugs. No, not in my mouth is what the kid would say. To the bluffs. Well, a friendly Springfield hello there, neighbors. You know, we think some kids of ours may be missing in your town. Missing children? Sounds like Springfield's got a discipline problem. Maybe that's why we beat them at football nearly half the time, huh? Quit stalling, kid. Write "Springfield sucks" in giant letters. His can control is excellent. Yes. And that wig makes him look a lot like one of the Beatles. That's right, the stranger who walks amongst you is me, Bart Simpson. You know, Bart Simpson. - From Springfield? - He's from Springfield. Get him! I'll use these spray cans as jetpacks and fly to safety. So long, losers. You're dead. Hey, look. Someone's attractive cousin. - Where? Where? - I don't see anybody. So he thinks he can out-skateboard me, huh? Launch me, boys. Slow down, you sidewalk-surfing cube-gleamers. "Wet cement. " I could sure use that flying motorcycle now. You had your chance. Safe at last. "Caution: Exit through door seven only. All other rooms contain man-eating tigers. " Roman numerals. They never even tried to teach us that in school. Milhouse, what's seven in Roman numerals? I'll tell you, but you really should end each transmission with the word "over. " - Over. - Correction: The only thing that's over is that transmission. Is this the untimely end of Milhouse? - But Milhouse is my name. - But I thought I was the only one. A pain I know all too well. So this is what it feels like when doves cry. Milhouse. Milhouse. Now what do I do? Wait. I got it. I got it. I don't got it. Okay, think, Bart. Where have you seen Roman numerals before? I know. Rocky V. That was the fifth one. So Rocky V plus Rocky II equals Rocky VII: Adrian's Revenge! Come back here. It's no use. I'm never gonna find that tree. This whole raid was as useless as that yellow, lemon-shaped rock over there. Wait a minute. There's a lemon behind that rock. The tree! A car impound lot. The impenetrable fortress of suburbia. - We'll never get the tree back now. - Keep your voices down, boys. - We didn't get this far to get found out. - Found them! You kids are in big trouble. - Running away from home like this. - But they stole our lemon tree. I don't care what excuse you've got. Nothing's gonna stop me in the middle of this speech. You're gonna Lemon tree? That tree's been in Springfield since the time of our forefathers. Give it back, or we'll bust in there and take it. Bust in here and take it? - You must stupider than you look. - Stupider like a fox! I'm okay. Don't you get it, Springfield? It's over. You lose. Now, if you'll excuse me, all this talk has made me hungry. This is the darkest day in the history of Springfield. If anybody wants me, I'll be in the shower. There's got to be a way to get that tree back. Hey, look. A hospital. Pull in there. Oh, great. Now I'm upside down. Oh, dear, some thoughtless human being has parked in a hospital zone. No one in history has ever done anything this clever. I'll get the gate. That's okay, son. I'll take care of him. Faster, son! He's got a taste for meat now. Get out here, son. There's a-doings a-transpiring. Let's shut the gate and seal them in. Gun it, Flanders. It won't start. Something's draining the battery. Sorry. We made it. Eat my shorts, Shelbyville. - Eat my shorts. - Eat my shorts. Yes, eat all of our shirts. Oh, you lousy Springfielders, you Shake harder, boy. We did it! - Yeah. - Yeah. And with that, a mighty cheer went up from the heroes of Springfield. They had brought the sacred tree back to its native soil. And though Flanders was stuck with the impound fee he could easily afford it. - More lemonade, Bart? - Absolutely. Say when. There are over 14 parts of the lemon that are And with that, a mighty cheer went up from the heroes of Shelbyville. They had banished the awful lemon tree forever because it was haunted. Now, let's all celebrate with a cool glass of turnip juice.